Snow White
by WordNerdette
Summary: What would happen if Angela turned into a werewolf? How would she handle the new knowledge? What would happen to her relationship with Ben? Canon. Takes place right after Breaking Dawn. Rated T for language. My first fanfic, please read and review!
1. Chapter 1: Anger

My first fanfic - please R&R! More chapters to come!

I am not Stephanie Meyer and I do not own Twilight.

"Ange! Angela, wait!"

I could hear him crashing through the snow behind me. I knew he must have rushed out without even putting on any shoes, and for a moment, that softened me enough to be civil. Ish.

"Go back inside, Ben, you'll freeze. I'm just going for a hike, I need to calm down and think about it a little longer."

"Since when do _you_ hike? And _I'll_ freeze? Ange, you don't even have a coat on! It's the middle of winter for heaven's sakes! And I don't understand how deciding when to go back to college is such a big issue it merits a full-on argument and serious "thinking about"! Please, will you at least take this blanket? I don't want you to get sick as well as grumpy."

I didn't need the blanket, I felt fine (if you could count wanting to hit everyone I passed and wearing clothes that wear too small because of my freaky growth spurt "fine"), but I took it anyway. I knew he'd worry even more about me if I didn't take it and I knew, deep down, that I was the one being difficult here. I knew it, but I couldn't seem to say it! And it was precisely this inability to speak which rendered me so uncharacteristically frustrated! As I trudged on into the woods, frustrated, I heard Ben close the door behind me, leaving me to meditate on my problems alone.

Maybe "meditate" was the wrong word; it implies peace, solitude, deep breathing, and possibly green tea. The only one of those that applied to me at the moment was solitude; I was getting pretty deep into the forest by now. I wrapped the blanket closer around my shoulders, not so much for warmth (I was still somehow immune to the cold) but as a comfort thing – it was getting dark, and the forest is a really creepy place at night. I could see pretty much perfectly, though, so it must not be too late yet – which was good, because I had some soul-searching to do.

The main question, of course, was: _What the heck is going on?_ I was fine when we got home from school a few weeks ago, and then it started: I got angry for no reason, I grew about two inches in a little under a month, and lately Mom keeps asking if I have a fever. I mean, what is up? Normally I would put some of that down to a bad case of PMS, but that's one thing I DON'T have right now.

Wait.

Today is the third of January.

My monthly visitor should have come two days ago.

_What the fuck was going on?_

No way was I pregnant. Ben and I had never…well, let's just say that sure, he's Mister Right, but I was still the reverend's daughter. So…maybe I was just late? I mean, it happens, right? Heck, it's probably even here now. I bet that's it. I should check.

And without giving myself a chance to talk myself out of it, I pulled my pants down, underwear and all. _Spotless_ underwear and all. And it was there, in the middle of the snowy forest with my pants around my ankles and a blanket around my shoulders, that I truly and completely lost it.

"MOTHER NATURE," I shouted, "If you are listening right now, I want you to know that I am NOT AMUSED. So you can stop playing your little joke or whatever it is and GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK!" I was seeing red and white stars of anger now, and my hands were literally shaking with pure frustrated rage. "We've already had enough hardships in our relationship, what with my freakishly unnecessary height and his video games, so would you PLEASE STOP ADDING MORE!"

And with that, my world exploded.


	2. Chapter 2: Heat

I don't know what just happened. Really I don't. I was angry and I went for a walk and then I started ranting and then I heard a rip and then…and then.

_Then_ was the most terrible moment, experience, whatever, of my entire life.

I can only compare it to what I imagine being tied in a bag and tossed into the ocean would be like; it was like I was completely helpless, like I was drowning, not in water but in my own anger. In heat.

For one second there was nothing but that red, angry heat, and right then I thought I really had drowned. And then I came out on the other side of_ then_.


	3. Chapter 3: Now  The Other Side of Then

**A/N Sorry for taking so long to post! (It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that this one is almost twice as long as either of the others) Please review!**

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

_Now_ – the other side of _then_ – was…well, it was many things.

I wasn't any less terrified now – in some ways I was even more scared, as every little thing could set me off and everything was suddenly so _sharp_ – but I didn't feel so helpless anymore. I was still furious and extremely confused, but I also felt…strong. Too strong, like I was some sort of monster and everything around me was now as fragile as my mother's good pottery.

I was still angry, I realized, and still shouting, but it didn't sound like my voice at all. I sounded rough, incoherent…animal. I started to wonder…_was_ I some sort of monster? Was there something in the Forks water supply that was turning me into the Incredible Hulk? The animals grew freakily huge around here; I still have nightmares about the time Ben and I ran into that black beast. The wolf. I shuddered.

Was some company dumping chemicals into the water? I'd rip their throats out. Wait, what? I was definitely getting –

_Oh shit._

I jumped. That hadn't come from me, unless my voice had changed back to normal – give or take a gender and a few years. It sounded like an older version of my brothers actually, and I remembered how mean I'd been to them lately – refusing to take them to the beach or the movies, yelling at them when they forgot to put away their toys. It just wasn't like me, and I felt horrible about it…the guilt was probably just speaking to me through my subconscious. That's a Freudian theory, right?

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh_ shit.

Nope, that definitely hadn't come from me _or_ my subconscious, and it still sounded like a teenage boy.

_Um…ya. You're right, I am. I know this is really scary and all…um, would you…excuse me for a couple minutes? I need to get someone who can help. Just stay calm, and stay right there…you're alone, right? Okay, good. That's something, at least._

And then suddenly, it was silent.

….Well that was weird. I mean, all of this is weird, but still. That was really weird. It even forced me to consider the one theory that I had refused to even _think_ about earlier.

I'm crazy.

Irrational anger, voices in my head that answered my thoughts, my own voice not making sense…that's it. I've gone mad. Bonkers. Sixes and sevens. That rip I heard was probably the last shred of sanity being torn from my psyche.

I looked around, just hoping it could have been something else, and a shred of cloth blew idly by my nose, as if it hadn't a care in the world. Lucky cloth. It was pale pink cotton – just like the shirt I was wearing. Or was I?

I looked at myself. Earlier, I was wearing a coral long-sleeve t-shirt; nothing flashy, just a comfortable, average top that brought out the highlights in my otherwise average hair. _Now_ I wore a shirt that was fluffy and white, as white as the snow around me. It was more furry than fluffy, really, the fur so long and thick I was shocked I wasn't sweating, even with the snow, and I wondered if I should take it off.

Then I wondered if I _could_ take it off – the shirt didn't seem to have any hems. Or seams. Or end. I tried to look for a way to rip it off with my hands, when I realized.

The nail polish I had been bored enough to put on this morning was no longer there. In fact, my hands were no longer there.

_Now_ I had in their place a pair of large, white, furry paws.

I screamed.

Again, though, it came out differently, and now I could put a name to my new voice: howling.

I _was_ a monster.

Paws, howling, fur that blends in with the snow…there was only one thing I could be.

The Abominable Snowman.

_No, not quite,_ said a deep voice. It was male, like the one from earlier, but older, and it had a…a ring to it, almost. It was powerful. There was a flavor of amusement to it, too – was he laughing at me?

_I'm sorry_, he continued. _We aren't monsters, not really, although a lot of people have called us that. I know this is scary for you, and I promise, it does get better. We're going to come get you; do you know where you are? Oh, and what's your name? I'm Jacob, and the kid you heard earlier was Seth._

Somanyquestions. If we weren't monsters, what were we? Where was he? How could I hear him? Could _he_ hear _me_? How would I answer him?

_Just think it, and I'll hear you. I'll explain everything, but later, in a safe place._

Safe for me? Or safe _from_ me? He still didn't have me convinced on the whole monster thing, and now he was asking me to trust him with my entire confusing life? He must be crazy. Crazy as I now was…_I'M ANGELA _I thought as loud as I could.

I received a wince in return, not visual – I still had no idea what this Jacob looked like, although his voice sounded somewhat familiar – it was more the impression of a wince, and when he spoke again, his voice was resigned.

_No need to shout. When we're…like this, we can hear _everything_ everyone is thinking. Most of the time it just sucks, but it does come in handy sometimes._

I saw a couple weird flashes of something – something was growling, not like my growl (did I just think of it as _my_ growl?), and there was something white and sparkly, and then it was gone.

_We're almost there, can you hear us?_

I listened. I could hear something that sounding like running, coming from the…north? Northeast? And it sounded like two runners, but if I could hear what everyone was thinking, why couldn't I hear the other one?

_From the northwest actually, and yes, there are two of us. And we can't read _all_ minds – only those like us, and only when we're like this. You can't hear him because he's not like us, but he can hear us because…well…he's just that annoying. _I saw some more flashes of sparkly white, and I heard two echoes of a musical chuckle – one as if through a telephone and the other softer, with my own ears – but I didn't catch anything more about the silent runner. Jacob seemed to be hiding things. Interesting. Not for much longer, however – the footsteps were very close now, and I could hear breathing and a heartbeat as well. Just one. How odd. The steps slowed suddenly to a walk. _Brace yourself. Neither of us is going to hurt you, but…we can be both a bit of a shock._

And then I saw why.

Now onto the path there stepped a carbon copy of the wolf-monster I had seen, though this one was a reddish brown in color. At his side, walking slowly but without fear, was none other than Edward Cullen.


	4. Chapter 4:How To Run With Two Extra Legs

**Sorry about how long this took to post, midterms were killer and I've been trying to make these chapters a little longer. Tell me what you think, like it or not!**

**Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer.**

What scared me most, at the moment, was not the enormous wolf. Sure, he was huge, but when he looked at me, his eyes weren't animal. He had kind, intelligent eyes.

Edward's unexpected appearance was pretty shocking too. It wasn't just the fact that he was standing comfortably in the middle of the forest next to a horse-sized canine. He looked _different_: he had always had a chiseled jaw, but now it was more as if someone had taken an actual chisel to a block of diamond. No longer just unnaturally white, he sparkled like the snow, and his silent movements and crystalline skin gave the impression of that he was made of literal stone. He had _not_ looked like this the last time I'd seen him – at the wedding – and I wondered if maybe he'd gotten the same thing Bella had on their much-gossiped-about honeymoon. His mouth twisted for a moment, and I remembered what Jacob (the wolf?) had said.

"_You can't hear him because he's not like us, but he can hear us because…well…he's just that annoying."_

So Edward was what…a mind reader? It sounded ridiculous, but then he nodded, and the revelation was incredibly embarrassing as I remembered my frequent daydreams about his looks. But even these creepy concepts were not the cause of my freaking out right now.

No, the most frightening to me at that moment had to do with the fact that the wolf was looking at me. And that I could see through his eyes.

Standing in my place, instead of a tall, skinny, stick-legged girl with brown hair, was a tall, skinny, stick-legged wolf with bright white fur. The she-wolf staggered to the ground, but I was too busy to watch, as I was trying to fight off a cloud of shocked blackness as it surrounded my mind.

"She'll come around soon," a calm voice said above me. "I'm surprised at how controlled she's been, though. The emotions are there, but not in the intensity you described."

_Think the worst is yet to come?_

"I doubt it. I believe what you said before, that the emotion peaks just before the change. Besides, Angela has never been the angry type."

_Any idea why _she_ phased? And why she phased into _our_ pack?_

"I can only speculate of course, but perhaps the border has more meaning than we thought? She lives in our territory, after all. As to why her, we shall have to see…" Territory? Border? Phase? _What?_ "Ah, there she is. Jake, can you hear her yet?"

The name on Edward's lips brought a rush of memories from high school, and I realized why Jacob's mental voice sounded so familiar.

_Jacob? Jacob_ Black_?_ I demanded. _I though you two _hated_ each other! Now will someone _PLEASE_ tell me what is going on?_

_All right, all right. Yes, I am, no, we don't – _

"Speak for yourself," Edward grumbled, but they looked at each other without malice.

– _and, _Jacob continued, _you've already seen yourself, so I guess you kind of already know this part. You're a werewolf, like me. Now can we get going? We're really not _too_ deep in the woods, and we should get out of here before any hikers or whatever see us. Someone might have heard your howling and come to investigate, and the rumors have only just started to die down…_

_Um, I can kinda see how you mean to get out of here _(I had caught the image of the three of us running through the trees) _and I just thought you should know that athletic stuff really isn't my strong suit. I really suck at the outdoors, actually, even my hiking out here was a fluke…_

"A fortunate fluke, however," Edward cut in, "seeing as no one around you would have had the slightest idea what happened or how to calm you, and the secret most undoubtedly would have been revealed. Now, we truly should go, as we are not very deep in the forest and if you howl any more, the humans might send out a search party." …the humans? He speaks like he's not…which would explain a lot actually… "As for running, just try it. Try not to think about it, it should come instinctually to you."

His tone pissed me off, a pretty common occurence as of late. Learning how to run with two extra legs? Sure. It'll come naturally. I did try, however, to do as he said: I actively did _not_ think about the having four legs instead of two, I did _not_ wonder which first foot to put forward first (it's actually a difficult decision, when you have so many options), and I did _not_ jump straight into the air in the vain hope that my body would discover its instincts by breaking my fall.

It didn't (hypothetically, of course), but I did reflexively stand up, and it wasn't so hard from there. I trotted forward a couple steps, just getting the feel of it really, but the guys (who had been smirking at me from the sidelines – don't think I didn't see that, you two!) dashed past me into the forest, I guess the idea being "in for a penny, in for a pound." I followed them, and it was surprisingly effortless. I was no klutz, like Bella, but I certainly had never run like this. It redefined the word: running was no longer a task that I as a healthy human girl was capable of, it was a fantastical talent. Far more special than flying, for what bird would dare to soar so close to the speeding ground?

I was well into stride now, and I sped even faster, passing the wolf and the two-legger, whose scent blew into my nose and made me gag, but I kept my course and pace as I followed the invisible trail they had left, more a mixture of the woodsy smell and the awful sweet one than of crushed leaves and broken branches. I could hear them behind me, with my ears as well as my mind, but they had decided to remain in the rear, for which I was grateful; this was the best I had felt since I had gotten back home. I felt relaxed, ironic considering the immensely physical nature of the activity. I wasn't angry, I was still pretty scared but I was ignoring that at the moment, and I was confused but I ignored that too. I decided it was best to enjoy the feel of the moment without worrying about the impossible implications of the circumstances.

I should have known better. As soon as my guard went down, I was barraged with memories of the thing I was trying to repress, what was more important than my fear or my confusion or the satisfying crunch of the snow underneath me.

_Ben._

What would happen now?

If _I_ didn't know how to deal with this, _he_ certainly wouldn't be able to. That's even assuming I could tell him. If he believed me, he would be terrified of me. And if he didn't (which he probably won't), he would assume I'm crazy (which I probably am), and get me sent to an asylum (where I probably belong). It would probably be best to just not tell him. Still, in none of these situations do I see us remaining together. Working around this kind of probably would be harder than learning to run with _twenty_ extra legs, let alone my paltry two. Even if I didn't tell him about this newfound furry habit of mine, our relationship would have to end – a relationship can't work if you aren't honest about _who_ you are, and I'm pretty sure the same rules apply about _what_ you are. Ben and I had to overcome a lot in our relationship, don't get me wrong – a 6 inch height differential the wrong way around was a powerful obstacle – but Ben finally worked up the courage to ask me out (he never did tell me what the final straw was) and we've being working around my shyness and his video games ever since. But werewolfism (I'm under duress, I'm allowed to make up words) can't exactly be solved by not wearing heels. If it could, well, that would be really lame.

So…that's it then? No more Ben? Once I'm back to human I just have to call him up and…wait. Once I'm back to human? I _will_ be human again, right? I mean, I don't know much about this stuff, but doesn't the term werewolf imply changing back and forth? What if it doesn't work for me? What if I never change back?


	5. Chapter 5: Who

_So…that's it then? No more Ben? Once I'm back to human I just have to call him up and…wait. Once I'm back to human? I will be human again, right? I mean, I don't know much about this stuff, but doesn't the term werewolf imply changing back and forth? What if it doesn't work for me? What if I never change back?_

I didn't realize I had stopped running until Jacob was standing in front of me, staring me in the face. _You _will_ be able to change back, _he assured me. _It takes a while; you have to calm down to do it. You're good, you're calmer than pretty much anybody has been at first, but nobody's good enough to do it right off the bat. _His thoughts stuttered, and he and Edward shared another one of those loaded glances that were just plain irritating. _As to…Ben…I'm sorry. Really. I've been in that situation before, I know how it feels, _I caught a flash of Bella, the mask of agony from last winter on her face, _but it's the right thing to do. You don't have to worry about that right now, though. As I said, you won't be able to turn back human for a while, and even then you won't be fit to see anyone in town for at least another couple of weeks. But again, not something to worry about at the moment. Right now, let's just get out of the snow, and we can explain everything in a _calmer _environment._

I didn't understand the stress he laid on "calmer," but since Edward smirked, I decided it was another one of those inside jokes they were being so cryptic about, and that if they weren't going to tell me, "_yet_," then to hell with whatever it was.

I could feel myself slipping, _again_, into that state of fury which had so plagued me over the past month, so I tried to calm myself down by taking stock of my surroundings. I could hear a river nearby and there was a clearing up ahead, although I didn't understand how I could_ hear_ something like that. The main thing that had my attention, however, was the _stench_. It reminded me of the time my brothers broke a bottle of my mother's strongest perfume and didn't clean it up. We had had the windows open for a week. This smelled like that. Times a thousand. Mixed with acid. I gagged.

There was a choking sound behind me, and I whirled to see Edward and Jacob cracking up over my reaction. I took a step forward, my body tensed – to what? To attack? – but I cut short as I realized the smell was in that direction, too. In fact, as I thought about it, it had been there for a while, I just hadn't noticed it – it was much weaker, and I had had other things on my mind. Like the fact that I was now some kind of giant white wolf.

Are werewolves usually white? I didn't think they were, and Jacob wasn't, but I was, so…was I albino? That just figures. Not only am I a mutant freak, I'm a freak among mutant freaks.

_You're not albino. And trust me, werewolves are the nice, normal side of freaky. _He showed me a picture of a couple guys who could have been related to the Cullens – they were pale enough – but they looked like they'd been dipped in baby powder and their eyes were red. Jacob was right. They were the definition of freaky. _Now can we get this show on the road? We're almost there. The stink is a natural warning to us, but no one will hurt you, I promise. Come on._

I was surprised – it hadn't even occurred to me to be scared by the scent – but I followed anyway.

A few seconds later, we came into a clearing. It was familiar to me, and I was shocked at suddenly finding myself here, of all places (although in hindsight I really should have known, given my company). The large white house in the middle looked as timeless as ever, with its pale beauty. I could hear worried conversation inside, with a mixture of unfamiliar voices – bell-like tones, smooth warm voices, and one speaker seemed almost gravelly. My name was spoken with some concern. I could hear a few heartbeats, too, but not nearly as many as there were voices. My new super-hearing must already be on the fritz…no, that had also been true before, I could hear Jacob's heartbeat and not Edward's. Weird. Did that mean he really was made of stone? Weird. I already thought that, though. What is _up_ with me? I am completely ADD.

"I believe the time after your transformation is slightly similar to ours," Edward answered my inadvertent question, "adjusting to improved senses and dealing with the shock, confusion, and fear do not a stable mindset make. Yours, however, is not as intense or violent, as unlikely as that may seem to you at the moment, and does not last nearly as long," he suddenly appeared at the front door of the house, opening it and beckoning to me. "You in particular seem quite docile; I was led to believe that the majority of newly turned wolves are downright violent in the beginning. Now, shall we? I believe a more domestic setting will make this discussion easier for you to take."

I took all the steps to the porch in one leap – another perk of insanity – and squeezed past him into the house. The sickening smell was intense here, but the decor was inviting – spacious enough to allow even a massive wolf to navigate it, with a soft air of comfort. It actually looked like a living room for once, instead of a wild dance party or a stately wedding. A couple of superfluously tall, gangly Native Americans were strewn over the couch, an old man in a wheelchair was next to them, and stone statues of several of the Cullens were scattered about the room.

The old man spoke first.

"Have you ever heard our legends, Angela?" he asked, and I identified him as the gravelly voice I had heard from the yard. "We raise our children to know them, but I do not remember you from any of our bonfires. Have your parents told them to you?"

I was confused. If the Quileutes only told these legends to their children, how would my parents know them?

"Her parents are not Quileute," Edward answered for me. The old man shook his head.

"Impossible," he stated. "Only the direct descendents…"

_Only the direct descendents what?_ Edward turned to me.

"Angela, this is Billy Black. He is Jacob's father, and he is probably the best able to explain to you what's going on. But we ourselves are very confused; only Quileutes can turn into wolves, and only certain Quileutes at that. Are you sure you aren't Quileute? On your father's side, most likely? And I will translate for you until you can phase back to human."

There was no way Dad was Quileute. He was a Lutheran for heaven's sakes! A paleface if I'd ever seen one – he was almost as inept as me at anything to do with the outdoors. And Weber was not a Quileute name.

"That can't be. The transformation gene is only passed through the male line –"

He broke off, looking at a towering man walking in the door. I recognized Jacob Black from that morning he showed up at school with his motorcycle, and I realized all my thoughts were my own again.

"You're right, Jake, I had forgotten about Embry. But no, I've been around Angela's mother often enough, and I've never caught any hint of infidelity in her thoughts, reflecting on her past or thinking about the present," I couldn't hold back my growl at him for implying that my mother cheated on my dad, but Edward kept talking, impassive as ever, "so I suppose the only remaining explanation must be true. Angela," he turned to me as if he hadn't just accused my mother of sleeping around and asked a question that was almost as unexpected.

"Did you know that you were adopted?"


	6. Chapter 6: Phasing Back

**Hi guys! Sorry for the extremely late update...I got pretty swamped with school and everything. I'm just glad AP's haven't started yet or this would be even later. Thanks for all your questions and input from before - I do have the answers and we'll get to them soon, I promise. I don't think I'll take this long to update again...but in consolation, this chapter is much longer than usual! Please read and review, your comments help!**

**I am not Stephanie Meyer and I do not own Twilight.**

"_Did you know that you were adopted?"_

He didn't ask _if_ I was adopted. He didn't ask if it was _possible_ I was adopted. Instead he asked, in no uncertain terms and with as much assurance as a politician at a gullibility convention, if I KNEW that I was adopted. He stood there, cool as a cucumber, and asked a question that undermined one of my most basic beliefs, and _no one blinked an eye at it. _No one scolded him to be more sensitive, or to beware of the crazy spastic giant wolf, or did anything, really. Emmett and Rosalie, sitting in the corner, seemed unaware of my existence, and Alice just sat on the floor pouting as if someone had taken away her favorite toy (or fiftieth-favorite pair of shoes).

I exploded. Didn't anyone realize that this was kind of a huge deal? That I may be a crazy, enormous, white-but-not-albino wolf, but I still had feelings?

I didn't realize I had lunged at Edward until the calm hit. It was a forceful calm, like my fury had been crushed by a colossal weight. Gently, I rolled off of him. _Sorry_, I thought. _That was uncalled for, and totally not like me._

"Don't worry about it," he said, fluidly standing upright. "I was quite inconsiderate, and all young wolves are incredibly volatile. No one holds you accountable. And thank you for the calm, Jasper," he added, turning to where his brother was now standing at the foot of the stairs. What did Jasper have to do with my erratic emotions?

"No problem," he replied, "and I think it safe to assume that Angela was not aware of the possibility that she was adopted. Judging from her frustration earlier, perhaps it would best to give her some answers before asking for more?" He stared at the mind reader a second longer, arching one stony eyebrow, and took a seat on the third step.

Edward nodded, and turned back to me. "I'm sorry, Angela. I didn't mean to be offensive, I wasn't thinking of what this would mean to you. If someone other than a Quileute were able to make the change it could have serious implications, but as Jasper said, that can wait."

He sat, cross-legged, on the floor in front of me. "What do you want to know?"

I took a deep breath. A few minutes ago I had been overflowing with frustrated questions—where did they all go? I knew the things I wanted to hear about, but what to ask first? Our last topic had been my parents, and I thought about my parents and my brothers and—everyone else. Would I ever even see them again? They said I would be able to turn back to human, but how long would that last? And would I even look like myself? What if I messed something up turning back and I ended up with my nose on my stomach? I probably wouldn't be able to explain the whole werewolf thing to them (especially seeing as someone still needs to explain it to _me_) and they wouldn't believe I was their daughter because they know their daughter has a nose and then they would think I was kidnapped or murdered or thrown in jail for jaywalking or something like that and they would be _crushed_. And my brothers would be so depressed and they wouldn't have anyone to take them to the beach or slip them under-the-table candy or—

"You know, you could probably win Olympic gold in long-distance jumping to conclusions. You need to calm down and just breathe. Nothing will go wrong when you phase back, it's instinctual. We can try it now, if you like; I know most wolves can't do so for a few days, but most wolves don't have Jasper to calm them down (he can manipulate emotions) and you seem quite sedate already. Besides, you would probably be more comfortable in the shape you are accustomed to, and if you get hungry soon I don't want to have to contemplate teaching a wolf to hunt."

I didn't understand half of what he had just said, but it sounded like they were going to try and get me back to human now, and that I would still have all my body parts in the right spot, and that was a plan I was definitely in favor of. I nodded, and Jacob and Jasper each got up from where they were sitting and headed back to the front door. Edward joined them after grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, and he waved to me to follow.

"It might take a few tries," he explained, "and get frustrating, and, well, Esme prefers that her furniture remains intact."

That sounded far more menacing than his peaceful expression would imply, and I really didn't want to have any more outbursts, but the wish to once again have defined fingers and toes conquered all. I followed him out to the incredibly diverse sounds and smells of the outdoors.

I couldn't hear many animals (which seemed weird, it being a forest) but the wind in the trees and the grass and my fur was distracting enough. I pushed the sound away fairly easily though—I guess I was getting accustomed to my new senses—and tried to concentrate. In spite of my skittishness I was still quite calm, apparently thanks to Jasper. The three guys turned to face me, with Jasper on the left, Edward to the right, and Jacob in the middle.

"This will probably take a few tries, so don't get frustrated. You're actually doing pretty well, extremely well if you consider the fact that, since you didn't grow up hearing our legends, you have absolutely no idea what's going on. We'll get to that. Now, remember at the beginning of the change? How you felt like heat was going everywhere? This sounds weird, but you're going to have to pull that in…"

Finally, after one hour, countless tries, Seth phasing back and forth like some misconceived Transformers toy, and one ruined Mozart CD (a story for another time), I succeeded in returning to my two-legged state. And exactly one instant later, a blanket was thrown over me, shocking me so much I almost phased back.

After a second of shock, though, I remembered that my jeans and sweater had ripped apart when I turned, and sure enough, I was naked under the blanket. Edward had considerately saved me from certain death by mortification.

"Thanks," I told him, glad to have regained my normal vocal chords. Yup, everything seemed to be in the right place.

"You're welcome," he replied as I got up, pulling the blanket tighter around me and dusting the snow off my knees. _Again with the not-being-cold-while-naked-in-the-snow thing. _"That's another thing caused by your being a wolf. Your body temperature runs significantly higher than that of a human's and your metabolism is incredibly fast; you'll need to consume gargantuan quantities of food to replace the calories your body burns, but it's unlikely you will ever feel truly cold short of skinny dipping in the Arctic. Haven't you noticed that many of the Quileute boys seem ignorant of the necessity of a shirt the majority of the time? This is why."

"Now," he continued, walking towards the house and holding open the door, "you will be wanting some clothes, which Alice has already assembled for you, and the others have returned from hunting. Esme has prepared enough to feed an army of wolves, pun intended."

As I walked in, I could hear that there were indeed more people around and there were absolutely incredible smells in the air that made me realize I was totally consumed with hunger. But clothes came first, and there was Alice bouncing by the stairs. She led me to the bathroom and handed me a pair of jeans (designer, mostly likely) and what looked like a t-shirt, both of which were sealed inside a vacuum pack.

"To keep our smell out," she explained when I looked askance at it. "We know our scent is unpleasant to wolves; we bought these for Leah, but she wouldn't take them. They may be a little too short. Now go change, so you can eat and we can talk!"

Once I got out I followed my nose (my senses had dulled a bit, but they were still stronger than before my change) to the kitchen. It was as light and airy as the rest of the house, although it felt slightly more sterile with all the stainless steel. Dr. Cullen was at the sink washing the dishing, but he looked up and smiled at me when I came in.

"Here you go, dear." I turned. Mrs. Cullen was handing me an enormous platter of homemade lasagna and garlic bread.

I might have drooled a little.

I thanked her profusely and headed to the table. I dug in, trying with little success to politely wolf it down. No pun intended. Edward came in, kissing his mother on the cheek before heading to talk to his father. I heard them speaking quietly, but most of my attention was on the food in front of me—I couldn't remember having ever been so _hungry_ before.

"Where are they?" Edward asked.

"The cottage. She had to change, her clothes didn't fit anymore."

"Does she know?"

"No…how will she take it, do you think?"

"With Bella?" Edward smirked. "I've learned not to even try to predict anymore."

The doctor laughed. "Haven't we all. We won't have to wait too much longer, though, she'll be here any—" He grinned. "Right on cue."

A second later I, too, heard the feathery footsteps, accompanied by light, bubbling laughter and another sound, fluttery, similar to a heartbeat but far too fast. They came all the way into the kitchen and I turned to look, only to find myself staring into a pair of startled gold eyes. _Bella's _gold eyes. No longer brown, they had adapted to fit in with the icy perfection of the rest of her body, a body that now fit in with the Cullens.

As perfect and alien her features may have been, our faces bore identical expressions of shock. After a minute, hers softened to sadness. "Oh, Angela…" she whispered.

But my attention shifted as a face looked over her shoulder. A tiny, beaming, adorable face. Never, whether in a movie or real life, had I seen such a beautiful little girl. Even more astonishing; this child, who certainly could be no younger than one year old, had Bella's old chocolate eyes and hair almost the exact shade of Edward's.

"Angela," Edward said, his smile as joyful as his voice, "may I introduce our daughter Renesmee?"

The girl jumped down from her mother's shoulders and danced over to where I stood, still too shocked to respond. She beckoned, and I obediently crouched down to her level. She pressed her tiny hand to my face—

_Suddenly, I was running (on two legs) through the forest. Bella (Mommy?) was running alongside me as we followed a pulse of heartbeats into a clearing. We both leapt and I felt hot, red salt flowing down my throat. After, we stood back, and I saw proudly that my deer was bigger._

Then I was back in the spacious kitchen, with Bella looking worriedly at me. Renesmee (a rather strange name, not that I'd say anything) took her hand off my face and giggled. I had been speechless before, but I was well beyond that now. Edward sighed and came forward to pick up his daughter.

"Nessie, what did we tell you about showing things to strangers?" He scolded gently. "Yes, I know she's a wolf, but she doesn't know much about us yet and it's only given her more confusion." He sighed and looked at me. "I suppose you already know, after what Nessie just showed you. We're vampires."

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	7. Chapter 7: Too Many Answers

**Hi guys! Well, still pretty long update time, but at least I was better than last time! And that was with Prom and AP's in the middle - I've already started working on the next chapter, hopefully I can get it to you quicker. I tried to make Angela a little less OOC here and I think I answered some of your questions; I'll get to them all I promise! Please comment with any questions or anything, I'm always open to constructive criticism! Enjoy!**

**I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight.**

_Vampires._ The word seeped through me like cough syrup, and a small shudder escaped me before I could help it. _Wait_, I told myself, _these are the same people I sat next to at lunch for most of last year. And I'm a werewolf. Obviously, not everything is as Hollywood teaches us. I can hear them out, at least._

Edward raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed. And more than a little confused. You took _that_ more calmly than when we proposed you phase back to human. Don't you think your priorities are a little out of order?"

Bella cut in before I could respond. "Love, stop obsessing about how people are supposed to react to things. Are you saying you'd rather she had freaked?" When her vampire husband looked properly chastised, she rolled her eyes and turned to me. "Don't mind him. For a mind-reader, he's awful at understanding people. Now, if I know my family, they have yet to give you any answers. Am I right?" I nodded, and she rolled her eyes again. "I love them, I really do, but sometimes they're a little idiotic. First things first: we—my family and I—do not drink human blood. He should've told you that _before_ giving you the chance to freak out, but he has a bad habit of making things seem worse than they are for some masochistic—

She was cut off by a throat clearing behind her, and we all turned to where Dr. Cullen was leaning against the sink. Clearly, we had all forgotten he was there. Luckily, he did not look irritated, merely amused. "Bella, you were just saying…? About giving answers first?" He raised his eyebrows, and she looked down. She looked like she always used to when she was blushing, but no red appeared on her cheeks. That must not be something _vampires_—Iforced myself to think the word—could do. Bella turned back to me.

"Why don't you keep eating, I know how powerful a wolf's appetite is, and I'll fill you in? Here, I'll get you some more, you probably want seconds." She moved so fast she was a blur even to me, and my plate was magically full once more with lasagna and garlic bread. Heh. Garlic. Out of the corner of my eye as I sat back down I saw Edward roll his eyes. Bella sat across from me, and the two men went back out to the living room to give us some privacy, Edward still holding his daughter (now _that_ was going to take some getting used to). Bella sighed, relaxing. "So…how are you holding up? I know it's hard to take, but it does get better once you've had a chance to sleep—your mind just kind of smoothes everything over and you can get ready for the next impossibility. Or at least that's how it was for me, but then again, I never was very normal…"

I took a huge bite, thinking it over. I was much calmer than before, partly because I suspected Jasper was still helping me, but also because of Bella. I had always liked her in high school; she was so much nicer than Jessica or Lauren, even when I got the feeling that she was keeping something from me. Now that I was no longer panicked and therefore jumping to crazy conclusions, I realized that this, the existence of the supernatural, was probably her big secret. Which meant she had known for ages. Or maybe not? Had she discovered Edward was a vampire and that was why the Cullens left, triggering her zombie phase? Wait. Had she _actually_ been a zombie then? After all, I was a werewolf and she was a vampire. It could totally happen. Wait. Jumping to crazy conclusions again. And Bella was still waiting for an answer to her question. I shrugged.

"It's better, now. The shock is still there, but the anger's under control now, and it really helps having you here. I always wished we could be closer—you were the nicest girl friend I had had by far—but I always felt like there was something you wouldn't or _couldn't_ tell me…and you never thought the height thing was too weird between Ben and…" I turned away, wiping my eyes. "Wow, this garlic bread is strong," I said weakly. I felt a gentle, brief pressure from a frozen hand on my arm, and then it was gone.

"The shape-shifting gene is one of the most closely guarded of the Quileute tribe," Bella said, giving me the explanations that just a few moments ago I had felt to be my first priority. When I looked at her, her butterscotch eyes were knowing, but she continued with her explanations as if she were teaching a college class (not that I had ever taken a course on Supernatural Genetics). "It's typically passed down from father to son, and only through a few bloodlines at that. You and Leah Clearwater are the only two females known to have phased."

I gave a hard laugh. "That would explain the conversation where _your husband_ saw fit to imply that my mother of adultery, then inform me that I had been adopted. I _might_ have tackled him. I sure hope you're okay with that."

"Angela, calm," Jasper reminded me from upstairs, accompanying it with a burst of peace.

I blushed and took deep breaths (through my mouth after the first one, the stench that I now identified as vampire was definitely not something to help me calm down). Bella seemed oblivious to my near-explosion, simply rolling her eyes and muttering something too low for me to hear, although I did think I caught the word "idiot." After a moment, she continued.

"Jacob—you met Jacob, right? Yes? Well, his great-grandfather, Ephraim, was a wolf, along with two others. When they died, the gene was thought to have died as well, but when the Cullens came back, the gene was switched on again. Apparently, it was only dormant and the presence of vampires woke it up. Which is probably why you phased; Leah phased when just a couple vampires were around because she had the gene from both sides, but you only had it from one side…we had a _lot_ of vampires here until a couple days ago. They were here for a month, and then with the advent of," she shuddered, "New Year's Eve there were a lot more, and then everyone did leave but I bet it was still just too much for the wolf gene…Carlisle? What do you think?"

In a flash he was there at the door, looking both thoughtful and eager. "Very well reasoned, Bella, that does seem probable. I wonder, when is one considered a werewolf? Is it only once the first phase has occurred? Because if I were to guess, the gene is activated far earlier than that, when the growing starts…"

"And when it comes to biology, we've all learned to trust your guesses," inserted Bella with a smile.

Her father-in-law chuckled lightly. "Well, you might be surprised. While you were pregnant, I thought Renesmee might actually be a werewolf. Of the Quileute variety, of course." He raised his voice slightly to compensate for the sudden chorus of growls from the living room. "I'm sure everyone is very relieved that she is not, and that the Quileutes are not descended from vampires."

"I wonder if there is a way to prove our theory?" he continued in a normal tone. "Angela, did you notice any discrepancies leading up to today? When did you first start feeling or acting odd?"

I thought for a second, then blushed. There was no _way _I was going to say that in a house full of people with super-hearing.

Edward breezed into the room. "I think we can safely say that she's been a wolf for two days at the least," he said quietly. "That's when her monthly cycle should have come."

I was saved from death by blushing when he came out with something that shocked me out of my humiliation.

"She must have been immortal by then, for her body to have stopped changing."

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